


Broccoli

by youwerefantasticrose



Category: Doctor Who, Roski - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwerefantasticrose/pseuds/youwerefantasticrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki attempts to make dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broccoli

She comes in from work to the sounds of cursing in the kitchen. 

“Loki?” she calls, setting down her purse. “Everything okay in there?”

He doesn’t answer, and she gets nervous. She steps in the room cautiously.

There’s a huge mess, smoke coming from the stove, stains on the counter, the oven timer beeping furiously, and in the midst of it all, Loki, hair mussed, hands full, and wearing her little pink apron.

“Don’t. Laugh.”

He practically growls the words, pointing the spatula in his hand at her. She slaps her hand over her mouth, but it doesn’t stifle her giggles. He glares at her, and it just makes her laugh harder. He turns away from her with a huff, rushing to the stove with a curse as it lights on fire.

She wipes her eyes, ambling over to his side.

“I’ve got it,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow. “Really.”

He raises a hand over the flames, and they go out instantly.

“Told you,” he says smugly. She reaches down and grabs the pan from the burner, inspecting the contents, blackened beyond recognition. She looks at it, and then at him pointedly.

“What exactly were you goin’ for, here?”

He ducks his head and blushes, actually blushes, and she fights back another grin.

“You’ve been really stressed lately; I thought I’d make dinner for a change.”

He looks up at her, and she smiles, setting the pan down, reaching out and touching his hand.

“That’s really sweet, Loki.”

His face softens, and he begins to smile back at her, taking a step closer. Her breath catches, and his hand catches hers, squeezing it gently. He leans in, and her eyes close—

Beep beep.

They both jump back. 

“The mircowave,” she says. “Guess something survived your efforts.”

He sticks his tongue out at her, and she laughs. He walks over and opens the microwave, pulling out the steaming bowl inside of it.

“So what’re we havin’?” she asks.

“Broccoli,” he says, waving it before her with a flourish.

“Oh.”

“What?” he asks, seeing her face. “Did I do it wrong too?”

She grins sheepishly.

“I hate broccoli.”


End file.
